Fury of Ice by Coreene Callahan

Author:Coreene Callahan [Callahan, Coreene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Adult, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781612182957
Google: mFKcuAAACAAJ
Amazon: B00726QFJA
Barnesnoble: B00726QFJA
Goodreads: 13437141
Publisher: AmazonEncore
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Mac reeled as the rogue landed another uppercut. His head snapped back. The yellow dragon came at him again, ramming his skull into his rib cage. Pain ripped through him as his body torqued and his senses exploded. A second ball-busting sideswipe. More sharp claws digging into his scales. Another gut-wrenching head butt and he was spinning, lost in the cloud of agony and whirl of night sky. His vision dimmed, blurring at the edges as city lights streaked into long-tailed comets.

Sucking wind, Mac lost sight of the enemy as blood washed over his fangs. The metallic taste burned, slid down the back of his throat and—

Goddamn, he was fucked. In an endless freefall. Tumbling so fast he was in for the mother of all face-plants if he didn’t pull his head out of his ass. And his body out of the nosedive.

He thrust his wings out, using the webbing like a parachute. Air caught and held. Rushing into an updraft, he flipped in midair and made a tight turn. Thank God. He was airborne again, able to maneuver, gain speed, avoid the enemy.

Bleeding like a sieve from innumerable places, he searched the sky and—

Motherfuck. The yellow-scaled pissant was persistent. And as the Razorback came at him again, Mac dodged, avoiding another body shot as he flew around the curve of a water tower. Another rogue met him on the other side. Brown with a horn in the center of his forehead, the rogue swiped at him. Mac twisted, trying to compensate, his newfound dragon instincts screaming in warning.

Too late.

The Razorbacks were smart, working in tandem, tag-teaming him—one herding him from behind, one coming at him head-on—using his inexperience and their skill to hem him in.

Dark eyes aglow, the brown dragon exhaled. A thick, green cloud shot from his mouth. Noxious fumes rolled out in front of him. The cityscape faded behind the toxic fog. The yellow Razorback banked hard, dodging behind Mac, splitting wide right, and…

Bam.

The toxin hit Mac full in the face. He gagged. His throat closed as his lungs seized. Pain squeezed around his rib cage, made his eyes water and…oh, man. The stuff smelled nasty and tasted worse, a bad mix of dead fish, Pepto-Bismol, and paint thinner.

Racked by a fit of coughing, Mac wing-flapped, desperate to gain altitude. The rogue inhaled again. Mac flew harder, chest heaving, struggling to get out of the way. Goddamn. This wasn’t good. He had a bull’s-eye on his forehead, and he’d lost momentum. He might as well pin a frickin’ sign to his chest. One that said, “Hit me here. Kill me dead.”

A second before the rogue hammered him again, movement flashed in his periphery. A white streak, more blur than actual substance, rocketed passed him. Frost rolled in its wake, blanketing the air, icing up building facades, killing the poisonous gas. The brown-scaled rogue shrieked, trying to change course.

But Rikar was faster. With a nifty flip, his XO grabbed hold and torqued the rogue into a full-body twist.

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